


The Flower

by MayGlenn



Series: May's February Ficlet Challenge 2021 [10]
Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Gen, Kid Fic, Michael Sanders - Freeform, Nebulous Well-Adjusted Past, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 20:01:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29356119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MayGlenn/pseuds/MayGlenn
Summary: Michael came home from school on Friday sniffling and coughing, but very excited. Michael always hopped off the bus excited as hell from whatever he had learned in his 4th grade class, but the coughing and sniffling was new.The kid didn’t seem bothered by it, but in the two or so years since Michael had come to live with Sanders, he had never gotten sick, so it worried Walt.
Relationships: Michael Guerin & Walt Sanders
Series: May's February Ficlet Challenge 2021 [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2141298
Comments: 12
Kudos: 33
Collections: February Ficlet Challenge 2021: Apocalypse No





	The Flower

**Author's Note:**

  * For [haloud](https://archiveofourown.org/users/haloud/gifts), [mythras_fire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mythras_fire/gifts).



Michael came home from school on Friday sniffling and coughing, but very excited. Michael always hopped off the bus excited as hell from whatever he had learned in his 4th grade class, but the coughing and sniffling was new. 

The kid didn’t seem bothered by it, but in the two or so years since Michael had come to live with Sanders, he had never gotten sick, so it worried Walt. 

“My friends Liz and Maria, you remember them, they found a flower! And they didn’t know what it was, so we looked in all the books in class and couldn’t find it, and then we went to the library but we  _ still  _ couldn’t find it in any of the books! And then we asked Ms. Tuttle at the library to look it up for us on the internet, and even she couldn’t find it! We might have discovered a whole new flower!” 

Michael stopped only to cough, grossly, barely covering his mouth. Michael was quiet around strangers, and he had been quiet in the beginning, when Sanders first brought him home from the group home, but now he chattered endlessly to Walt. 

“Okay, wipe your mouth, kid? You feelin’ sick?” 

“Nah!” Michael protested, wiping his entire face on his sleeve. He looked filthier than usual, but Sanders really wanted his clothes to last them until Monday, so they only had to go to the laundromat once. 

“On a hanky, kid,” Sanders said, handing him his own, which was clean, today. “C’mere, blow.” 

Sanders dropped to a knee, holding the handkerchief up in front of Michael’s face. 

“Ugh! I’m not a baby!” 

“Blow.” 

Michael sighed, annoyed, but blew out a huge glob of snot. He sucked in a breath to keep talking, and coughed again. 

“Okay, easy, kid. You’re comin’ down with something,” Sanders said, putting a hand on Michael’s small back, ushering him towards the trailer. 

“Aren’t you listening? We discovered a new flower! Unknown to science! Liz is going to get into the Guinness Book of World Records or something!” Michael said. “I’m fine!” 

“I believe you,” Walt said, but urged him into the trailer nonetheless. “But you’re gonna humor me, okay? Stay in bed, and no chores today.” 

Michael wavered. No chores sounded good. He coughed again, looking out at the sunshine. “All day?” 

“All day.” 

“What if I need something?” 

“You can get it, and go straight back to bed. Or you can ask me for it.”

“What if I need to pee?” 

“Then you get up and go to the bathroom, and go straight back to bed. Speaking of which, let’s go there. You gotta get some PJs on, and wash up.” 

Michael was, as a rule, a very eager to please child, so even though he was incredibly irritated by this whole situation, the child submitted to being stripped down and bathed and re-dressed, continuing to tell Walt about the rest of his day. Apparently, he had learned some state capitals, some history of New Mexico, and a lot about measurements. Also bears? That might have been a book, though. 

He seemed to be doing better by the time Walt got him into bed, his little nook above the driver’s seat. Less sniffling, now, though his breathing sounded wet. Walt held a hand to Michael’s brow once he was at eye-level. Kid was definitely sick: a cold, hopefully not some viral thing. “You feel a little warm, kid. Warmer’n usual. You sure you’re not tired? Sore? Achey?” 

“I dunno,” Michael finally admitted. He was vibrating with energy, poor kid, but now Sanders saw how he kind of hunched in on himself more than usual. “What’s that mean?” 

“Like you got a bruise, or you’re just tired,” Sanders explained, and then grinned a little. “Like me, all the time.” 

Michael frowned, whether in sympathy or his own pain, crawling forward to give Walt a hug, resting his curly little head on Walt’s shoulder. “My chest feels kinda funny, I guess.” 

Walt rubbed his back. “I think I got some Vick’s. We can see if that helps. How’s soup sound for dinner?” 

Michael nodded. “Can you get me my encyclopedias?” 

“All of ‘em?” 

They had been picked up for five bucks for the set at a thrift store, since so much was online, these days. Walt had figured Michael had just wanted the brightly-bound set of books just to have them, but it seemed he actually enjoyed reading them. 

“I gotta see if I can find the flower.” 

“Right, the flower,” Walt shook his head, already handing the books up. He knew about Michael’s unusual origins, and often worried that strange things might affect him. He certainly didn’t think this was a virus, or a cold, anymore. “Maybe you’re allergic to that. I don’t think I want you touching it no more.” At Michael’s protest, he said, “You can look all you want, but no touching. Liz took it home?” 

Michael nodded, frowning. 

“It’s not fair,” he mumbled. 

“I ain’t here to be fair, kid, I’m here to keep you safe. You want the rest of your books up or not?” 

Michael was still pouting, deeply, but he nodded. 

Walt was unmoved, but finished handing him up the stack of encyclopedias. He then putzed around the trailer, opening up all the blinds and windows to brighten the place up and air it out. Michael read quietly, obviously giving Walt the silent treatment. It was a Friday, so Walt didn’t bother him about homework, so that was fine. He set about opening cans and making soup for both of them. 

Michael fell asleep sprawled out on top of his books before dinner was ready. 

…

Walt fell asleep on the sofa waiting for Michael to get hungry, and woke to a thud, and then crying. 

He opened his good eye just in time to see Michael stagger past him, throw open the screen door, and barf out the front door onto the dirt. 

"Hell, kid!" Sanders said, bolting up as fast as his old bones would allow him. He caught Michael just as he was about to faceplant right outside the trailer, yanking him back into his arms. The tiny body was wracked with sobs, and he was  _ really  _ warm. 

“Okay, okay, you’re okay, you’re okay, kid,” Walt shushed him, grabbing a blanket from the couch and bundling him up in it. He could get nothing out of the boy for some minutes, until sobs turned into coughs and Walt got him to blow his nose again and drink some water. His heart was still pounding as he asked the scared little boy, “What happened?”

Michael had the shell-shocked look he had when Walt first met him. Walt wasn’t real good at comfort, but he did his best, awkwardly trying to soothe his inner child who didn’t know what he was doing, either. 

“Got hungry,” Michael eventually mumbled. “Tripped getting down. Dizzy.” 

“You hurt yourself?” Walt asked. Kid was shivering, though that might be from the fever or exertion. 

Michael shook his head, then looked up at Walt with shining eyes. “I—I think I broke my powers,” he whispered. 

_ Oh _ , Walt thought, relieved by some metric, but he still checked Michael’s arms and legs for any sign of injury. That’s all the social worker needed to see, a bruised up child with a broken wrist or something. 

After finding nothing, Walt adjusted Michael in his arms, going to the stove to reheat the last of the soup, adding water to pull it away from the pan. They had been honest with each other from day one, that Walt knew his mother but wasn’t going to be his mother, and told him if he had any abilities that seemed different from his classmates he should hide them, but that he could tell him about them, if he wanted. Michael had never hid his budding telekinesis from Walt, however, but he mostly lifted books and things. “Kid, you didn’t break your powers. Maybe that flower you’re allergic to did something, though I don’t think it’s permanent.”

Walt had no clue, of course, but it seemed the right thing to say. “Now, you gonna eat some soup? Or you want to try crackers?” 

Michael took a moment to respond, to take this in. “Some crackers, please. And soup,” he said, once that started smelling good, too. 

Walt fixed the meal one-handed, and he helped Michael eat off a TV tray on the couch. When Michael could barely keep his eyes open, Walt took him to the bathroom to brush his teeth and then bundled him back up in the blanket, swaddling him like a baby. He wasn’t much bigger than a baby, one of the smaller kids in his class, though Walt knew he was going to grow into those feet sometime. 

“No peein’ in the bed.” Walt said as he laid Michael down in his own bed, before stooping to remove his shoes. 

“I don’t pee the bed!” Michael protested, suddenly awake. 

“Now you’re awake, I see. Make an old man brush your teeth for you,” Walt chuckled. 

When Walt turned around, Michael was frowning at him, but it turned out to be worry. “You’re sure I’m not broken?” 

“Kid. We’re all a little broken.”

It was the truth, though obviously not something the little boy was ready for. 

“Let’s see how you’re feeling tomorrow before we panic, huh? And that means getting a good night’s rest. Bet you’ll feel better.” 

Michael obediently closed his eyes. When Walt returned from washing the dishes and hosing off the front steps, Michael was asleep. 

**Author's Note:**

> Tenth in the February Ficlet Challenge. The prompt was "Viral."


End file.
